


The Valentine Cookie

by TheReluctantBlue



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 07:05:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5996158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReluctantBlue/pseuds/TheReluctantBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"So whose your other half of the cookie?" He asked the guy, who barely looked at him as he stood by his table.</i>
</p>
<p>
  <i>"Doesn't matter."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Valentine Cookie

If Brendon could count the times he celebrated Valentine's, he'd say it was a yearly thing.

There was Sarah last year, there was Laura from the year before. The rest, it was pretty much a blur.

He's not considering himself some kind of Casanova. It just so happens that he's looking for something stable. He was hoping to find a longtime relationship. And he honestly hasn't found that from any of his previous dates.

That's why the valentine event at the Coffees for Closers caught his interest:

_"The first 'SINGLE' twenty customers will each be given one half of a cookie. Once the twenty customers find their match, they'll be given a special Valentine Edition Drink for the pair."_

If Brendon should consider himself lucky, he's the 20th customer when he arrived at the café. Single as he may be.

He looks around at the café, seeing some customers looking for their matching cookie half. Some of them already found their pair, given with a single drink along with two straws in it as their prize.

Brendon can notice the shy glances that the pairs give to each other. It was a nice image, blossoming into something new.

A couple of people have asked him if he matches their cookie, but Brendon hasn't really found his yet. It's been 30 minutes now and no one else has been approaching him for the cookie.

The crowded café lessened and only a few people are left. Brendon thinks, the person with his half has gone home by now.

"Hey, you found your other half?" One of the baristas--named _Rachel--_ asked him, if it was out of pity, he didn't bother looking any further in to it. He shook his head, as he concludes that the person who got his half probably went home.

The barista looks over at the corner of the café. Brendon follows her gaze and sees a man by the window of the café, sitting alone as he looks at the people passing by the outside of the café. Brendon couldn't see the man's face from where he sat, but he can clearly see something familiar on the guy's table. It was half of a cookie.

"That guy's been here almost everyday." The barista informs him. "I barely see him smile. It's kind of a waste, seeing such a handsome face frown like he does. Whatever he's thinking about, it must be pretty deep." she sighs.

"Do you know his name? He might have my other half."

"His name is... Dallon? I think? It's a pretty unique name." She shrugs. "Maybe you should talk to him. Make him smile a bit. You seem like the type." 

Brendon looks back at the figure, guessing that he might as well talk to him and try. He thanks Rachel and went to the other guy's side of the table.

 

 

"So whose your other half of the cookie?" He asked the guy, who barely looked at him as he stood by his table.

"Doesn't matter." The guy responds, sounding uninterested. The guy turns to look at him, and Brendon swears it's like everything stopped the moment he caught the guy's gaze.

The barista was right, he  _is_ handsome. He has prominent, striking features, but his eyes are haunting. The gaze of those eyes is what he'll remember each time he closes his eyes.

"You can have the drink, if you want." The guy-- _Dallon_  says, breaking his trance at the man's hypnotic eyes.

"You, uh. Don't wanna share with me? You do have my other half." He asked hesitantly, never leaving his eyes at Dallon's face. He's staring pretty hard, but Brendon can't help it. Dallon is breathtaking.

Dallon shook his head, pushing his cookie towards Brendon and looks back at the window.

When Brendon went to the counter, the barista mouthed an _'I told you so'_ and went to prepare his drink.

Brendon stares at Dallon's lone figure. He wonders what made the man so isolated. He wonders who was the person who put that expression on Dallon's face. The frown on his face doesn't suit him. Brendon knows this man deserves better. 

That's how Brendon finds himself standing by the man's table again. 

"I told you, I don't want the drink." Dallon's voice sounds irritated. And Brendon would have left him alone, except he can't. Because Brendon can't bear leaving the café and never to meet this man again. He's willing to take a risk.

"Can't I just sit here with you?" Brendon isn't begging but he sounded like he did.

Dallon looks at him, his eyes narrowed. He sighs in defeat seconds later and offers Brendon the seat. Which he greatly took.

Brendon tried to be discreet as he stares at Dallon's frame. He looks tired. Tired is an understatement. He looks miserable. His shoulders hunched as he puts his palm under his chin and stares at the people outside. It was either the lighting of the café or his drink, but Dallon is just really beautiful up close. Brendon has seen a lot of beautiful people, but none of those people took his breath away like Dallon did.

"Please stop staring at me." Dallon mutters, not exactly looking at Brendon as he said it.

Brendon mutters an apology and turns to look at where Dallon's gaze is. The view outside was actually nice. The café was in front of a small park. He can see a bunch of kids playing catch. An old lady sits on a bench as she reads her book. A man was jogging along with his dog. A few teenagers sat under a tree, laughing without a care in the world.

He wonders what Dallon was looking for from such a lively view.

"...It's a nice view. Don't you think?" Dallon suddenly spoke. His gaze never leaving the park.

Brendon takes a small sip on his drink, and nods. "Yeah. It is."

"I used to hate it here. It was so crowded." He admits, a mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. Brendon wanted to ask what made him hate the place. But he decides to just nod instead, and let Dallon continue.

"I have a girlfriend. Her name is Breezy."

Brendon should have known such a beautiful man was taken. Out of curiosity, he had to ask: "What is she like?"

Dallon turns his gaze at him, but he realizes he's not actually  _seeing_ Brendon. He's reminiscing, if the faraway look and the sad gaze was any indication.

Breezy, Brendon learned, came from the same university as he did. He's seen her a few times before. She was the head of the student council before. Perky, intelligent, kind and beautiful. Everyone on campus admired her.

He should have guessed that such a wonderful girl would have found herself such a man.

"I met her here. In this very spot. She asked to share a seat with me since almost all of the seats were full back then." Dallon chuckled, and this time, it had more feelings. "She actually spilled her drink on me."

Brendon can imagine it clearly as Dallon told him how she kept apologizing, and promising him to treat him for another drink. And despite the coffee stained shirt and the noisy customers back then, Dallon admitted that he fell love at first sight with her.

"I used to hate it here but, after that moment, I admit that I've started to love this place as well. Since it reminds me of everything about her." Dallon started to smile, it wasn't forced. It was a genuine, fond smile.

And Brendon can't help but be jealous of Breezy, because that endearing smile only belongs to her.

"Where is she now?"

He was afraid he asked the wrong question the moment he saw the expression on Dallon's face changed. It was as if the smile he had earlier was just his imagination.

"I'm waiting for her." Dallon said monotonously. He stayed silent after that. His gaze returning to look outside the window.

Brendon understood that the discussion is over. He was hoping he could at least be friends with Dallon after this. But he screwed up, he knows he did. He always did.

He finished his drink and stood from his seat. Dallon barely looked at him. He muttered a good bye to Dallon but he doubts he even heard it.

"Wait."

Brendon stopped his tracks, and turns to look at Dallon. He wasn't smiling but he didn't look closed off as he did earlier.

"What's your name?" He asked. Brendon hopes this is a start for him.

"Brendon. Brendon Urie. And you?" It was pretty unfair of him to learn Dallon's name from someone else.

"Dallon Weekes. Nice to meet you." Dallon stood up from his seat and approaches him. Brendon had to really look up at him because Dallon was just  _tall._ The taller man's hand was outstretched, offering him a handshake. It was definitely a start for Brendon and he's going to take what he can get.

"Sorry, I think I was being rude. Breezy would definitely lecture me if she finds out." Dallon says sheepishly. His sudden change of mood surprises Brendon.

"Uh, no problem." 

Dallon nods, and looks down at his feet. He looks shy, and Brendon realizes, this must be the actual Dallon. Not the almost despondent, miserable one on the table.

"T-Thank you, Brendon. For, uh. L-Listening to me." He blushes as he stutters through his words.

Brendon felt rather bold that moment when he said: "I really liked listening to you. And I honestly don't mind listening to you again."

The blush on Dallon's face became more prominent. And Brendon would certainly enjoying seeing that blush often.

It was almost dark outside when Brendon looked to the window. He checked his watch,  _6:26 pm._

"Looks like Breezy is busy with her work again today, so I'll go on ahead."

Brendon knows he doesn't just want to end it like that.

"Can we meet again? A-And... you know... chat?"

Dallon stares at him for a moment. Brendon hopes his heart isn't beating too loud. He feels like a teenager asking someone to the prom.

"Sure. Let's exchange numbers."

_'Yes!'_ Brendon mentally fist pumps to the air.

They both exchange numbers, Brendon secretly inputing Dallon's name with a ' _< 3' _on it. He's pretty sure he's a teenage girl at heart. They say their good byes, the smile on Brendon's face is starting to hurt as he stares at Dallon's departure. But it was worth it.

 

 

He just stood there, staring at the number on his phone. How does he talk to Dallon? Does he text a ' _take care'_? Does he say _'good night_ '? He should stop being so giddy. Dallon has a girlfriend, for goodness sake. He apparently spent his Valentine's listening to a guy talking about his girlfriend.

"Hey. You alright, buddy?" One of the baristas-- _Patrick, according to the name tag_ \--asked, looking at him as if he was deranged. He couldn't blame the guy. He's been smiling like a lunatic for the past minute now.

"Yeah. I'm fine. Great, actually."

Patrick hums in thought. "Looks like you scored a date. Who's the lucky person?"

"Not actually a date. I just... made friends with someone. He's a regular here, I think. Dallon Weekes?"

Patrick's curious expression turned grim. It's not suppose to make him nervous. But he's seen that expression enough to know there's something wrong.

"Mr. Weekes has been a regular customer here for 2 years. Most of us know him by now." Patrick informs him sullenly. His hands nervously fiddling on the edge of his shirt.

Patrick went to sit on the couch, he gestured Brendon to sit down with him. He looks hesitant to continue what he was saying, but he continued anyway.

"He always sits on that table by the window. And during his first year as a patron here, he has this girl with him. I would assume the girl was his girlfriend. I would observe them sometimes. Mr. Weekes doesn't seem to talk much. He just smiles and listens to his girlfriend talking. She was a lovely girl. All of us in the café think they're such a wonderful couple."

Patrick pauses for a bit, a little smile is on his face as he turns to stare at the table by the window. He's probably remembering Breezy, chatting animatedly as Dallon listens to her, an affectionate expression placed on his face.

"...And then they both stopped coming to the café all of sudden."

_'They stopped coming?'_

Patrick's voice becomes melancholic, as he continues. "Months later, we heard that his girlfriend died of cancer."

_'died of cancer'_

Breezy _died_ from  _cancer._ That was a _year_ ago. He doesn't understand. The way Dallon talked about her...

"But Dallon said he was waiting for her! The way he talked about her... I-I thought she was..."  _'I thought she was alive.'_

Patrick shook his head, and sighed. "It's a sign of grief. He's in denial."

Brendon is still trying to process everything. Dallon waiting for Breezy. His girlfriend dying last year... "But, he can't keep doing that. He's just making himself more miserable!"

Patrick takes a deep breath, and lets out a shaky exhale. "Grieving is a personal process that has no time limit, nor one “right” way to do it."

"All people grieve differently. Some people will wear their emotions on their sleeve and be outwardly emotional. Others will experience their grief more internally, and may not cry. You should try and not judge  _how_  a person experiences their grief, as each person will experience it differently."

Brendon stares at the hands on his lap. Trying to understand and piece together everything that was happening. Dallon was waiting for someone that isn't coming back anymore. Dallon was  _grieving,_ and Brendon knows in his heart that isn't something he should handle alone.

He doesn't understand how he was so willing to  _help_ someone he just met. What if they were meant to meet? Just for this? 

He's being naive. But what if it's true?

Brendon's sure as hell wouldn't let this pass.

"You know, the fact that Mr. Weekes talked to you could be a good thing. A good sign. Maybe the cookie thing wasn't such a bad idea." Patrick chuckles, the tension on his face slowly disappearing as he smiles at Brendon.

Brendon couldn't help but agree.

 

 

It's been a week since that talk with Patrick. He sits by Dallon's table and they talk. He learned a lot of things about him. His likes, dislikes, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs and the sound of his laughter. It was intoxicating, like alcohol. Brendon will never get used to it. 

Dallon still talks about Breezy, he still waits for her and Brendon is perfectly okay with that. It's going to take a long time for Dallon, but Brendon thinks, he'd want to stay by his side, if not forever, maybe a little longer if Dallon let's him.

He hopes Breezy doesn't mind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY VALENTINE'S EVERYONE.  
> (couldn't add more on the tags in hopes of not spoiling the story. Sorry)
> 
> *hides from a mob of angry brallon shippers*


End file.
